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Poutawa “Puk” Kireka, the captain of the Notorious chapter of the Mongrel Mob, had a cellphone that he wrapped in waterproof gloves and hid in the toilet of his prison cell.
Sometimes he let other prisoners use it. But mainly, he kept it to run a scheme to smuggle drugs into the jail and sell them to other inmates.
Over the course of a month, the phone was used to make 450 calls and send 3000 texts. That doesn’t include the messages sent through social media apps.
Kireka boasted that the guards had searched his cell three times and hadn’t found the phone.
What he did not realise was police were listening in to his calls and monitoring his other communications.
Police began intercepting activity on the phone on January 23, 2023 and let Kireka keep talking to and texting his associates outside the prison for 30 days, gathering evidence.
The story of the ring set up to smuggle drugs into Hawke’s Bay Regional Prison cannot yet be told in full. There are a number of people allegedly connected to the operation who are still being dealt with by the courts, and publishing all the details could jeopardise fair trial rights or name suppressions.
However, the important facts about the plot can be pieced together after two of the main players pleaded guilty and were sentenced in November for their parts in it.
Poutawa "Puk" Kireka was criticised by US rapper 50 Cent on social media for the Mob tattoo "Notorious", which covers the bottom half of his face.
Puk Kireka was one. Methamphetamine dealer and former professional gambler Shane Thompson, also known as Shane Tamihana, was another.
Kireka, described by District Court Judge Russell Collins as an “extremely intelligent man”, was the brains behind the scheme.
In prison on remand for violence offences, he had cannabis suppliers on the outside. He kept the cellphone charged up by plugging it into a television, and used it to communicate with his network.
Thompson, meanwhile, described by the Court of Appeal six years ago as “the most comprehensive methamphetamine dealer Hawke’s Bay has ever seen”, used his contacts in the criminal world to move methamphetamine that was still under his control outside the wire.
His lawyer told his sentencing hearing Thompson didn’t make any money from it. He did it as “a favour” to fellow Mongrel Mob member Kireka.
Thompson also had his own hidden cellphone to make his job easier.
Cannabis and meth were smuggled into the jail by people coming to see prisoners on visiting days.
In busting the operation, police used prison visit logs to monitor when people may have been bringing drugs into the jail.
There were other means to get drugs in – at one point Kireka lamented one delivery was not going to happen because an inmate had been denied compassionate leave.
In one of the phone calls, a person on the outside suggested using drones, or tennis balls knocked over the prison fence, to get drugs to prisoners.
Kireka told that person it wouldn’t work – the exercise area he used was “fully caged in”.
But the drugs could still be smuggled in, a little bit at a time – no more than two ounces (about 50g) of cannabis in each consignment.
In three visits detailed in court documents, a total of 6g of methamphetamine and three ounces (75g) of cannabis were brought into the jail.
Some of the methods used to evade searches and any drug dogs at the gatehouse could be gauged by a shipment that was intercepted after the surveillance period ended. A small amount of cannabis – 6.45g – and 14 cigarettes were discovered wrapped in plastic and smeared with Marmite.
It was not known if this consignment was one of Kireka’s, but Marmite, and curry powder, had been used before to put drug-sniffing dogs literally off the scent.
Kireka also reckoned that an ounce of cannabis could be squashed down to a package no bigger than a thumb for easier concealment. By splitting and rolling the cannabis carefully, 130 joints could be made out of half an ounce. He then sold the joints for $20 or $30 apiece to other prisoners.
The meth could be sold for $1300 a gram, or for $2000 if the gram was divided into “points” of about a tenth of a gram.
That is several times the price on the street. The price of illegal methamphetamine fluctuates, but at the time police were eavesdropping on the phone calls, it was selling outside the wire for $400-$500 a gram, according to a Massey University survey.
Kireka was careful. He told associates in the phone calls that the cannabis was kept on the wing, but not in his cell – because of the smell.
He wasn’t using the drugs himself because he did not want to fail a drug test.
He did not handle the drugs, but got others to do so.
He got up early in the morning to wrap up his cellphone in the gloves and hide it in the toilet, tied to a jandal.
Shane Tamihana, also known as Shane Thompson, was jailed in 2018 for 13 years for meth dealing. Photo / NZME
He used code in his messages. In texts, a palm tree emoji was used to symbolise cannabis.
But the evidence gathered from the phone intercepts detailed the movements of drugs between people outside the jail, and how the drugs were paid for once sold to inmates inside.
An associate outside the prison managed several accounts for Kireka and his prison customers, with money transferred between them, or the clients had their own friends who made payments by bank transfer. Police evidence recorded deposits of $4046 in Kireka’s favour.
Thompson appeared in the Napier District Court in November and was sentenced to 23 months in prison on charges of supplying methamphetamine, smuggling and unauthorised possession of a cellphone. It would be served cumulatively on the 13-year sentence he received in 2018 for methamphetamine dealing, meaning it would be added to the end of that term.
That effectively pushed out the earliest date he could apply for parole to October 2025.
Of his part in the operation, Judge Bridget Mackintosh said: “This kind of behaviour undermines any rehabilitation programmes in prison and undermines prison discipline.”
The evidence before the courts said Kireka had been looking forward to moving to a bigger wing within the prison – because it would mean more customers.
He was sentenced in November last year to 10 years and 10 months in prison for the violent offences and the prison drug dealing. He was given a non-parole period of three years and 10 months for the violence.
In the 450 phone calls police monitored, there was one in which he discussed possibly getting the tattoo removed.
Thomspon is also a colourful character. He enjoyed considerable success at the gaming tables under the name Shane Tamihana, winning the main event at the SkyCity Casino Festival of Poker in 2016.
He reportedly earned more than $100,000 from gambling over two years and was known for his aggressive playing and his habit of exclaiming, “Later Bo,” as he forced his opponents to fold through the strength of his betting.
But after he was sentenced for drug dealing – in 2016 and 2017 he pushed $4.2 million worth of meth into Hawke’s Bay – he was outplayed by the Police Asset Recovery Unit, who went after the riches he gained from his criminal activities and seized them for the Crown.
In 2018, they took five vehicles and $130,000 in cash from Thompson and one of his partners-in-crime.
Thompson had tried to hide some of his assets by registering the ute under the name John Doe, and the house in the name of a long-term gambling buddy.
Ric Stevens spent many years working for the former New Zealand Press Association news agency, including as a political reporter at Parliament, before holding senior positions at various daily newspapers. He joined NZME’s Open Justice team in 2022 and is based in Hawke’s Bay. His writing in the crime and justice sphere is informed by four years of front-line experience as a probation officer.
